


The Most Human Colour

by cordeliadelayne



Category: Primeval
Genre: Atmospheric, Enjoying a Day Together, Getting Together, Light Angst, M/M, Surprises, one night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-29
Updated: 2016-09-29
Packaged: 2018-08-18 13:34:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8163749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cordeliadelayne/pseuds/cordeliadelayne
Summary: Danny's one night stands don't normally turn into anything more. That's never been a problem till now.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fredbassett](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fredbassett/gifts).



> Written for fredbassett who gave the prompt “wholly unexpected”.
> 
> Originally posted to Livejournal in 2014.

Danny didn't often pick up men.

Well, Danny didn't often pick up men and let them stay after.

Or, ever.

He was just trying to decide whether that meant his dick had finally taken over doing all his thinking for him, or if he was just really, really hungover when the guy – Tim? - handed him a cup of perfectly well made black coffee.

Danny decided his dick was a pretty good judge of character.

“You have eggs but no bread, and I threw out the bacon on the grounds that I thought it was becoming a new life form.”

Danny grinned. “Yeah, been away for a while – not had a chance to stock up.”

He resolutely did not think about the four months he'd just spent in – the Carboniferous? – well, wherever. That hadn't been as bad as the last time he'd got stuck in the past though, at least this time he'd had an anomaly detector, weapons and a first aid kit, even if his only companion had once again been a stick.

“Must have been some trip,” the man said, trailing a finger along a fresh scar down Danny's thigh.

Danny's smiled barely wavered. “It was definitely something.”

The man sank down next to Danny on the bed and took a sip of his own drink. Danny watched him through hooded eyes, trying to remember the guys name, or better yet where his trousers and presumably his wallet with ID had landed.

“So, Danny, you have anywhere you need to be this morning?”

Danny did a mental salute to the guy for remembering his name. “Boss gave me the day off.”

“So your trip was for work?” the man asked, with a too casual twist of his shoulders. Danny was immediately on alert.

“Yeah. I'm in conservation.” Which had the benefit of not exactly being a lie, Danny's favourite form of subversion.

“Looks dangerous,” the man said. He leaned down and licked a stripe across an old scar on Danny's stomach, from the last trip he'd taken.

Danny's toes curled and he had to focus on a point just above the television set to stop himself from getting distracted.

“Has its moments,” Danny panted, as the man moved lower. And damn he needed to remember his name.

But that could wait till after the blow job.

* * * * *

Breakfast turned into a brunch at a local greasy spoon, with Danny finally remembering that the guy's name was Tom and he did something in engineering. The table cloths had seen better days but the service was flirty and the food hit just the right spot and Tom certainly didn't seem to mind.

“You got any plans for the rest of the day?” Danny asked, as casually as he could muster. It wasn't really his style to ask anyone to stick around for this long, but the bacon and eggs was making him feel magnanimous.

“No,” Tom said after a moment. “No plans at all.”

There was something almost wistful in the look Tom gave him, before turning to look out the window. It was starting to rain and people were rushing past, fighting with umbrellas and coats.

“Fancy watching the game back at mine?”

“What game?”

Danny shrugged. “There's always a game of something on.”

“Okay,” Tom said after a moment. “We'll probably need to get some food in, though.”

Danny thought back to the inspection he'd made of his kitchen cupboards that morning, while Tom had been in the shower. He'd found some teabags next to the coffee and a half opened bag of flour which had proved to be full of weevils. Tom had already emptied the fridge of things that looked like they were planning on taking over the world, so the only thing left was some butter and a spare gun. The fact that Tom hadn't mentioned it was both concerning, and approaching a turn on.

“Yeah,” Danny said, after he realised that the silence had dragged on a little too long. “There's a Tesco's round the corner.”

“Sounds good,” Tom replied, his face lighting up and Danny absolutely did not find himself drowning in that smile.

* * * * * *

It was surprisingly, and pleasantly, domestic to be wandering around the aisles of a supermarket with someone. Danny couldn't remember the last time that he'd done this, or taken a proper interest in the food he was buying, trying to remember the ingredients for the few meals that he could actually cook.

Tom was a good companion, knowing when to talk and when to remain silent, knowing when to touch – a hand on Danny’s elbow to steer him out of the path of a harried mother pushing a trolley and dragging a toddler behind her, soft brush of fingers as he put something into the basket Danny was carrying – and knowing when and how to make Danny laugh like he hadn't done in years.

Danny had thought that this was just going to be a one night thing, maybe a one weekend thing judging by the way things were developing. But maybe, just maybe there was something else going on.

“We done?” Tom asked after a moment. Danny flexed his shoulders, trying to bring himself back to the present.

“Yeah, come on.” He went to pay, with Tom standing behind him, a comforting presence even though he wasn't doing anything particularly taxing.

* * * * *

Back at Danny's flat, Danny settled Tom onto the sofa in front of the TV while he went to the kitchen and began making a pizza from scratch, one of the few culinary skills he actually possessed. Tom had offered to help but Danny had waved him off with a beer and now as he chopped up vegetables and moved around the kitchen he could hear the TV in the background. He found it soothing, the anchor back to the modern world he hadn't even realised he'd been looking for.

Danny put the pizza in the oven and then went to join Tom, who had managed to find some sort of ice hockey game to watch.

“Do you know much about hockey?” Danny asked.

“No,” Tom replied with a smile. “But blokes knocking each other off their feet seemed like as good a sport as any.”

“Sounds good,” Danny laughed. “Pizza'll be ready in about thirty.”

“Oh?” said Tom, raising an eyebrow. “Whatever shall we do to make the time pass?”

They found more than one thing in the end.

* * * * *

Dinner was eaten in front of a football match that they paid as much attention to as they had the ice hockey. Tom was pressed close to Danny's side, his gaze seeking out Danny's more often than not.

Night had well and truly fallen by now and as Danny went to pull the curtains closed he stared out of the window. The rain had stopped and now a thick fog had sprung up from nowhere, a blue grey mist that made it impossible to see the houses opposite.

“I should get going,” Tom said, from right behind Danny, who jumped; damn that man could be quiet when he wanted to be.

“Really?” Danny asked, and winced at the way his question sounded more like a whine.

“Yes. It's time.”

Danny frowned. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. It's just time.” Tom moved forward, his hand gently cupping Danny's cheek and then drawing him into a kiss that was at once soft and full of promise. “Thank you,” Tom said when they had moved apart.

“Thank you? For what?”

“Just, thank you.”

Tom moved towards the door and Danny found that the only thing that he could do was follow. He opened it for Tom and watched as he disappeared into the fog, not even turning back for one last look.

As Danny closed the door, he told himself that he wasn't disappointed.

* * * * * *

The first person Danny saw the next day at the ARC was Cutter, who barrelled into him as he walked by, looking as if a Velociraptor had crawled up his arse and died.

“What's wrong with him?” he asked Jenny.

She halted in her pursuit of Cutter and sighed. “This,” she told him. She handed over a file that said “Memoriam” on it.

“Come again?” Danny asked.

“Becker suggested we make a memorial on the wall by the security desk at the front entrance, to remember those we've lost. Cutter took it in his usual indomitable style.” She pointed towards the file in Danny's hand. “We've lost quite a few, but, I think Captain Ryan was the one that affected him the most, and Lester didn't realise that yesterday was the anniversary of his death, so...” Jenny gave another sigh, this one even more long-suffering than the next. Danny made a mental note to make sure she got a decent lunch break later.

“Hit a nerve?” Danny asked.

“You could say.”

“Want me to take this back to Lester, while you sort your man out?”

“Yes, thanks,” Jenny said, moving off. She halted abruptly at the end of the corridor. “And he is not my man.”

“Whatever you say, darling,” Danny replied with a wink. Jenny glared at him, but Danny walked off before she could say something.

Headed up the gangway to Lester's office he gave a jaunty wave to Connor and Stephen, who was hobbling along pretty well on his crutches these days. Naturally he couldn't help himself from peeking inside the folder.

The first photo he saw was labelled Captain Tom Ryan, and the serious looking face staring out at him made him pause, his whole body feeling like it had had a bucket of ice water poured over it.

“Mr Quinn, forwards or backwards, make a decision, but one of them better be out of my way,” Lester snapped. “And that belongs to me.”

He snatched the folder out of Danny's hands and headed down towards where his PA, Lorraine, was waiting.

Danny opened his mouth to say something, explain somehow, but no words would come. There was nothing he could say that wouldn’t make him sound like a lunatic. Which, granted, wasn't that different to how they usually acted around him but this felt like it could be different. This felt precious, like his brother and if nothing else his search for Patrick had taught him how to keep his cards close to his chest.

So he said nothing. Did nothing.

Except make a note of the date when Tom had appeared to him, and waited.

He was very good at waiting.


End file.
